Things I learned this weekend

While house-hunting with Cal (for HIM, not US) in Macon:
-Realtors are an interesting breed indeed.
-There are more houses in Macon than one could ever imagine. I saw entire areas of the town that I never knew existed.
-According to the number of House for Sale signs here, everyone is leaving. And no one is coming. (with the exception of Anna! and Cal!)
-People have strange taste in decor. One house, built by its previous owners, had two tiny little kitchens: one in (literally) the den, and one in (literally) the bedroom. Is that so that the den can borrow sugar from the bedroom when it runs out?
-The world doesn't want teachers to be able to buy houses. There's no way I could afford anything worth owning on my salary. Oh well.

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Dating a sportswriter has its advantages. One is that he has some awesome ticket connections. We had fourth row (lower level) seats on the third base line at last night's Braves game. For free! Plus VIP passes to the 755 Club, which is some swanky restaurant/bar/lounge area similar to the skyboxes at Sanford Stadium.

We also got to meet up with Aaron Heilman, a relief pitcher for the Mets, after the game. He played baseball at Notre Dame with one of Cal's friends. Pretty cool, huh? Ignore the fact that we looked like dwarves in comparison, please.

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Laryngitis is kinda fun the first time or two you have it, but by the fourth bout in one season, it's highly aggravating.

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Springer Spaniel puppies are incredibly adorable.

Watch out, Ladies

I think I got an email warning me about this guy a couple of months ago. I assumed it was a joke (If a man shows up at your door and asks to see your boobs, DON'T SHOW HIM. He only wants to see your boobs.) Apparently, though, it really happens.

What in the world were those ladies thinking? I mean, it'd be one thing if they were elderly Alzheimer's patients or something, but these girls were in their 30's!! Come on. What a sad statement about the mental capacities of our gender.

It is pretty funny, though.

mTm

The following is an exact replica of an email I just received, sent to the listserv at my school:

Subject: Monogrammed Clogs, Sandals, and other Funstuff

Tomorrow there will be Monogrammed Clogs, Sandals, Shebeads, purses, baby bags, laundry bags, head bands, ponytail holders, etc. in the Elementary Teachers' Lounge for your viewing if anyone is interested.

Can't wait. Love me some monogrammed "Funstuff".

(Yes, that's sarcasm. No, I haven't succumbed to Macon's Biggest and Most Annoying Fad. Yes, I'm still quite the rebellious prep school teacher. HA! Right.)

Bootylicious

Can this be for real? The sad fact is that some university was paying professors for their research.

Missing Persons Report

I'd like to send my friend Courtney an email congratulating her on her upcoming nuptuals, but I'm too lazy to go back through all of my old posts to find the comment in which she left her address. So. Courtney. If you're there? Can you post it again?

(or email me. firstnamelastname@yahoo.com. Or, well, congratulations.)

He sees dead people.

Haley Joel Osment is 18 today. WHAT!?!? I thought he was, like, 4. Now if that doesn't make one feel old. Pretty soon, at the rate we're aging, he'll be seeing me and you, "everywhere, walking around like regular people. [We] [w]on't know [we]'re dead."

Ba da bump.

(By the way, I realize that I haven't really posted anything substantial in the last two weeks or so. But yes. These count, too. Keeping you folks entertained. That's all I'm required to do.)

One of life's mysteries

Why doesn't "sherbet" have an 'r' in the second syllable? I mean, does anyone really pronounce the word without one? Maybe I'll start a petition and send it to the Oxford English Dictionary people to get "sherbert" approved as an alternative spelling.

Hmmmm.

Odds are that I was invited to this baby shower. There've been so many, I can't keep up.

I've been waiting on someone to snap at one of those things, and I can't say I blame the folks. Perhaps they can plead "Temporary Insanity", brought about by too many petit fours and cutesy baby things crammed into one room.

It's 01:02:03 on 04/05/06... Make a wish!

My little sisters (always meant to be the math teachers they eventually became) used to get a kick out of watching the clock and making wishes when the numbers lined up in certain combinations. You know, like "Hey, it's 4:44; make a wish!" or "Look! It's 2:34; make a wish!" Used to drive me crazy, back when I was a surly, embittered (aka hormonal) teenager.

So, naturally, I had to chuckle when I ran across this article.

Enjoy your wishes, Amy and Julie. And may they always come true!